Hope You Dance
by wooster182
Summary: Mark and Lexie are drawn to each other. Will a little Christmas spirit prompt them to break promises? MxL. Post-All By Myself


Joe's Bar jangled with the happy holiday music pouring out of the jukebox. It seemed as though every doctor from Seattle Grace was there tonight exchanging gifts and taking shots in an impromptu Christmas party. Laughter and the roaring of conversation could barely be heard over the music, but it was apparent from the smiles all around that everyone was happy.

Everyone except Mark Sloan. He, in fact, was pretty damn miserable. Sitting at the bar alone, he took another swig of his beer. He didn't want to sit with Callie, Yang, and Hunt. They finally looked happy and he didn't want to bring Callie down—not after everything she had gone through. So he sat there, thinking about how screwed up his life had become.

It had been nearly a month since he had slept with Lexie. They had stayed away from each other after Mark confessed the promise he had made. He would never forget the hurt look on her face when she had walked away from him that day. They had barely spoken in weeks. She was nonresponsive and awkward when assigned as his intern. He had tried to joke with her a few times, but he never got the fiery response he had wanted and he was just as uncomfortable as she.

To make things worse, he didn't even have to see her to be constantly reminded of how she tasted, how her skin felt against his. He could still smell the mint in her hair. A soft smile spread across his face as he remembered her feminine, skillful fingers delicately tracing his beard before she kissed him.

When he saw her, it was even worse. Every nerve in his body snapped each time she walked by. He physically had to restrain himself from reaching out and grabbing her, cupping the back of her head with his hand. He wanted her to kiss him back, to make that tiny cry she had made in bed as he entered her. He wanted her to cling to him, to hold him, to tell him that he was stupid for ever making that promise.

But as each day passed, that never happened. But what had happened was George leaving Seattle and effectively Seattle Grace Hospital. Apparently, his mother had fallen ill and he moved back home to take care of her. Rumor had it that he would be gone indefinitely and Lexie was looking for a new roommate. She had seemed down for a couple weeks over the loss of O'Malley. His beer tasted bitter as he cringed with jealousy. Did she miss O'Malley over him? Deep down, he knew that she must.

But as hard as he tried not to, tried to deny it, _he_ missed _her_. What he missed most was not the sex, but _her_. He missed her shy, unsure smile. She had no idea how damn beautiful she was. He missed the way she tucked back a strand of hair behind her ear when she was busy, the confident glow in her eyes when she knew she was right, the way she held her breath when she wasn't sure she was. He missed everything about her. His hand tightened around his drink and his body stiffened as he realized that he hadn't slept with Lexie Grey that night. He had made love to her.

And he wanted to again.

As if it were fate, he turned just as she walked into the bar. Twinkling Christmas lights dangled above her head, making her appear angelic. She shook snow from her hair and laughed freely at something Sadie said as they entered further into the room.

He didn't want to stare at her but he couldn't stop. Breath caught in his chest as he watched her take off her coat; he could still see her in his hotel removing her jacket in one swift tug. _Teach me_.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath. He had to stop doing this. It was torture. Determined, he turned back around and faced the bar. "Joe," he called. "I need another drink."

Joe hurried to get the beer as a feminine voice asked behind Mark, "Do you always drink alone on the holidays?"

Flooded by both the sense of relief that she finally was speaking to him and terror of what they would say to each other, he spun around and smiled, but his eyes lacked that smirk he so often had. "I find the holidays easier to survive when you hide from everyone and get really drunk."

Her face dropped and she nodded. "I'll go then. Merry Christmas."

He put his hand on her forearm. "I didn't mean you, Grey." He couldn't call her Lexie.

She smiled again and waited until Mark awkwardly dropped his hand from her body. Sitting down next to him, she ordered a drink and handed him a small bag. "This is for you."

His brow furrowed. "What is this?"

Shrugging, she said, "I wanted…I just…I thought you should have a gift."

He looked into her eyes for the first time that night, for the first time in weeks. Taking the bag, his fingers lightly brushed against hers. "Thank you, Grey. I don't know what to say."

Her smile widened. "A _thank_ _you_ usually suffices."

He glared at her with mock reproach and opened the bag. It was a small bamboo plant in an earth-tone jar. A smile and a twinge of confusion crossed his face. "A plant?"

Waving her hand in front of her, she explained, "It's a housewarming gift."

"I don't have a house," he said dryly, his head tilted to the side.

"Exactly," she said nodding. "Living in a hotel room seems so impersonal. I thought it might encourage you to find a place of your own."

Chuckling, he said, "Leave it to Little Grey to find a way to make a gift a guilt trip."

Pointing at him, she said, "It is not a guilt trip. It's friendly nudging. A hotel isn't _you_."

He felt his heart seize and he actually hoped he was having a heart attack. It would be better than what he was going through now. A heart attack could be fixed. "_Me_? So what is _me_?"

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she said, "I don't know. You're thoughtful. And you care about your patients and your work. You care about people." She looked down and through the noise, her voice could barely be heard as she said, "Even more than they realize."

He wanted so badly to ask her what she meant, but he wasn't sure he was ready for the answer. In a low, raspy tone but void of the seductive Mark Sloan draw, he said, "Dance with me."

Letting out a breath of air, her forehead wrinkled and she looked at him like he was crazy. "Here?"

He threw his head to the side, motioning her to stand up as he did. "Everyone is drunk and happy in here tonight. Half of the room is dancing. Why shouldn't we participate in the jovial festivities?"

She frowned. "I thought you said you wanted to be alone and drink."

"You've shown me the error of my ways." He stuck out his hand. "Come on, Little Grey. You want to have fun. You know you do."

Licking her lips, she glanced around as she stood up. No one was paying attention to them. She took his hand and let him guide her closer to him with his other hand on the small of her back. She seemed to stair into his shoulder as their bodies barely rubbed together. They swayed much slower than the song was going. Her hand gently squeezed his strong bicep as her other thumb idly traced a trail on his hand. Suddenly, she looked up at him, her deep brown eyes darkening into black pools. In nearly a whisper that brushed across his cheek, she asked, "Why did you ask me to dance?"

Why did he ask her to dance? He knew that Derek would tear into him for it the next time he saw him. But there had been something about the way she had given him the present, how she talked to him. He wanted to protect her but he got the feeling that if she kept smiling at him like that, _she_ would save _him_. He had asked her to dance because he needed to hold her again, feel her as he wrapped his arms around her feminine body. He wanted to feel her want him, need him. He asked her to dance because he damn well wanted to. But he didn't tell her any of that. Instead, he gave her a slow smile and said, "Maybe I'm just in the Christmas spirit."

"It suits you."

"There you go again, Grey, telling me how I am," he said dryly, but his eyes sparkled with humor. Holding her closer, he studied her face and breathed deeply, trying to catch her scent again. The hand on her back fell a few inches lower and he could remember kissing the curve his hands fell on. She apparently remembered, too, because she sucked in a breath and her fingertips dug into her shoulder. His voice as still as hers had been, he asked, "Why did you give me that gift?"

She looked down, batting her eyes, and smiled. "I'm not sure. Maybe it was because what happened the other night wasn't your fault. Because George leaving isn't your fault either." Her eyes connected with his and she took a deep breath. "And because I missed you."

She looked vulnerable as she had that night right before he kissed her. He brought her hand to his chest as they continued to dance. Uncontrollably, he asked, "Do you miss me more than O'Malley?"

Her mouth dropped open at first, but then her eyes warmed and she said, "I brought you that gift, not George. I thought there was more between George and me than there ever really was."

"Why me?" he asked, shaking his head. He really was a glutton for punishment tonight, but he had to know what she was thinking, had to know if he was wrong in what _he _was thinking.

Stretching her hand over his heart, she felt his heart beneath her and watched his hand rest on top of hers. "It was the way you held me when you kissed me. They way you're holding me now. I haven't felt that safe since before my mom died."

"Lexie," he said on a long breath. He felt a lump swell in his throat. He had taken the chance to ask and, as always, she surprised the hell out of him. He didn't think he could respect this woman more, want this woman more. But he had one more question he needed to ask. "Why did you wait so long to talk to me again?"

"I was embarrassed," she said, running her free hand through her hair before returning it to his shoulder. "I didn't think you'd ever take me seriously after the way I approached you that night."

"Oh, Lexie," he repeated, as softly as when she had been standing before him taking off her clothes. "How could you ever think that? Especially after the way I took advantage of you." Guilt seeped through him; it was this feeling of taken advantage that had kept him from her all these weeks, even more so than his promise to Derek.

Laughing softly, she said, "I'd hardly say you took advantage of the woman stripping in front of you amidst your objections. I'm not as fragile as some people think." She smiled as the relief clearly poured from his face. "We haven't really mastered communication yet, have we?"

His bright smile returned and he let out the air he had been holding. They barely moved now, but they were still holding each other. "Maybe I should have you read one of those dating books and then recite it back to me."

Smiling coyly, she asked, "What are you trying to say, Dr. Sloan? Do you want to date?"

His eyes drifted down to her lips. "I'm saying that I want you to call me Mark."

"I think that can be arranged," she said. She hadn't said his name since they slept together, but it felt right now. "_Mark._"

He rubbed his hips against hers and his jeans were beginning to strain against a growing erection. He had never heard anything more seductive than her saying his name in that sweet, sexy tone. "Let me take you home," he said in a low rumble.

Her face twitched and her confidence faltered. "We've joked around a lot tonight, Mark, but do you really want to break your promise to Derek?"

He didn't break his eyes away from hers as he said assuredly, "I should have never made that promise, Lexie. I think you're more together than I am."

"Are you saying he should protect you from me?" she asked, her hand raising to gently cup his jaw line.

"Should he?" he said in a low rasp as seductively as possible.

Rubbing her thumb across his beard and over his cheek, she said, "Take me home and find out."

Nodding, he took her hand and went back to the bar to get his gift. Then, without noticing any of the stares directed their way, they left the bar hand in hand and walked to her apartment, chatting about the day's surgeries and what was to come tomorrow in the hospital.

At her door, she turned to him and asked, "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer your place? I have to warn you that it's a lot nicer than my apartment."

Wrapping his arms around her, he bent his knees to lean her into him. "I thought you said that hotel room isn't like me."

"It isn't," she said, shaking her head. "But at least it doesn't look like hell's reject."

He chuckled. "I want to see where you live, Little Grey. Just let me in."

Taking out her key, she said, "I think you just want to be able to judge my place like I did yours."

"Now the communication is flowing correctly, Grey," he said jovially, putting his hand on her back as he followed her into the front room. As she turned on the light, he looked around. "Wow."

She smoothed her hair with her hand and took off her coat. "What?"

Deadpan, just like Mark Sloan to do, he said, "This place does look like crap."

She blinked at him a few moments before laughter burst from her freely and unexpectedly. "Thanks. You really do make a girl feel special."

In two long strides, he stood in front of her, his hands on either side of her face. "No, it isn't crappy. It's homey and genuine. It's you." He kissed her forehead, leaving his lips linger there for a long while. Opening his eyes, he looked around the room. "Lexie, are those medical supplies?"

She dropped her head to his shoulder. "Yes," she groaned. "We didn't have money for decorations. Or furniture."

"You have a wild streak, Little Grey," he said with admiration. "I like it." He ducked down and kissed her. Instead of the guilt and desire that he kissed her with last time, this was much more about passion and relief. They kissed solidly for several moments before he licked at her lips, teasing her to let him in and she did so readily. His tongue entered her mouth slowly and explored ever inch of her mouth, twirling with hers, dancing.

She tugged at his leather jacket and it fell to the floor. Her hands massaged the muscles in his back and came around to slide from his chest to his navel. She slipped her hands underneath his shirt and trailed her fingers against his solid abdomen. Their first time had been tender, an escape from their fears and tensions. This night was about releasing the emotions built up that month. They had been apart for so long and now they could not have enough of each other. She crashed into him, clung to him as his hands swept down over the curves of her thighs and found her bottom, pulling her even closer to him until there was no space between them. She could feel his hard erection pressing against the V of her thighs and she panted into his ear, whispering his name. She took his earlobe into her mouth and sucked, nibbling at the tip. He cursed.

Both were agitated by the amount of clothes blocking their hands from each other. They took a step back and helped pull each other's shirts off. He put his hand in the band of her jeans, his fingertips brushing just above her warming center. With one sift tug, he brought her to him again and kissed her hard. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands sifting through his hair. She tugged at a gray strand. His head jerked back and he grinned at her, breathing hard.

Reaching down, he gave her neck a love bite. He delighted in her soft cry, the feel of her bra rubbing against his bare chest. He could feel her nipples harden as they brushed up against him and he put his arms around her to unfasten the straps.

She shrugged the bra off and watched as he took her breast in his hand, circling her nipple with his thumb and index finger. He lifted her breast and brought his mouth to her, flicking the tip of his tongue quickly against her, sucking at her crest. She was breathing so hard she was afraid that she would stop. No man had ever made her feel this way before. Her eyes rolled back as he continued to tease and lavish her with his tongue, lips, and teeth. She ran her hand through his hair, down his neck, and finally to the button of his jeans.

Once he realized she was fiddling with his pants, he stopped and pushed them down. They started backing towards her bedroom and her back hit the wall. He pinned her against the wall and his body, nudging his erection into the fly of her jeans. He kissed her softly on the lips, flicking the corner of her mouth before he nibbled the dip of her clavicle. He rubbed the curve of her breast with the back of his hand and then palmed her flat stomach as he kissed her abs. She ruffled his hair and he knelt down in front of her, looking up at her with cocky pride as she reacted to his every move. Slowly, he pulled down her jeans and delicate, black panties and swept his hands across her smooth, silky legs as she stepped out of them. He put his hands on her hips and backed her further against the wall.

He knew the Mark Sloan method well. It was his. He knew it would make her toes curl and he wanted to taste her, feel her want him. Using the pad of his thumb, he found the hard bud. He circled his thumb around it slowly, spinning her into a hot dizziness.

"Mark," she cried softly, almost in a whisper. With her hand on the back of his head, she urged him to bring his mouth to her. "Please, I want you to."

He squeezed her hips with his hands and sighed as her hands played with his curly hair. His tongue tentatively flicked at her, making her hips come off the wall towards his mouth. He lapped at her body now, sipping her as if her were luxuriously enjoying a juicy peach. His tongue swirled around the beaded flesh, not able to get enough of her.

When he felt her fingers dig into his shoulders, he slid one hand between her legs and found her hot and wet, making him sip at her harder and faster. He slipped two fingers inside of her and curled them slightly toward her stomach. He took his other hand and pressed it just under her navel. He felt her legs shake and begin to buckle. Taking is mouth from her, he looked up and said, "Lean into me, Lexie."

She gripped his back and leaned her legs into his body. He kissed her stomach as he took his free hand and rubbed her clitoris as fast and hard as possible until her body clenched against his hand. She slumped against him and he wrapped his arms around her.

They held each other like that for what felt like forever until she said, "You are a good teacher."

He laughed softly. "Are you ready for your next lesson?"

Playing with his earlobe between her thumb and finger, she smiled down at him and nodded. He kissed the top of her thigh before he stood up. Lifting her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist tightly. She pushed her flushed chest against his body and let him carry her to her bedroom as she kissed his temple.

Carrying her to the bed, he laid her on top of her comforter. He began kissing her again, but she put her hands on his chest, saying, "No, Mark. Now it's your turn." Nudging him to lie down, she straddled his waist. Leaning over, her hair fell over his face and neck as she kissed him leisurely, mimicking the motions his tongue had given her moments before. Grabbing a condom from inside her nightstand, she kissed his chest, nipping at his tight skin. She ran her teeth over his nipple before gliding her hot tongue over it. He hissed and ran his hands down the curve of her back to her butt and squeezed it, watching her smile at his reaction. She made her way down to his masculine center. Her hand stroked him slowly and firmly, listening to his breath get choppier the longer she went. She watched his beautifully ripped chest heave and he groaned uncontrollably.

He put his hands on her cheek and shoulder and said roughly, "Lexie, I want to be inside of you. I want you. Now."

It was her turn to smile with cocky pride and she slipped the condom onto him. She settled down on top of him and rested over him, holding him close, relishing in how hard and tight he felt inside of her. He dusted kisses on her face and slid his hands between them to find her breasts before she sat up and began rocking. She took each movement slowly, both of them enjoying simply the feeling their bodies made together.

Finally, he reached up and wrapped his arms around her, spinning them so that he was now on top of her. He licked and kissed at her neck, pumping solidly into her. She found his butt and pushed him farther inside of her, wrapping her legs around him to allow for better, closer access. Raising her hips to meet him with every new stroke, she milked him expertly, until they were both nearly shouting in ecstasy. She twisted her fingers into his hair and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist so that they laid body to body as they came together. They laid like that for a long while until Mark rolled over and helped her pull the covers over them.

Pulling her close, he rested his lips against her head and she idly traced shapes over his arms and stomach. Their legs were tangled together and neither could help but close their eyes and smile.

Breaking the silent peace of the room, she asked, "Why do you still live in a hotel?"

He thought about it for a moment as he stroked her silky hair. "I don't know anymore."

Mark liked her bed. It was obviously cheap, but it was soft and warm. And she was in it.

the end


End file.
